


cold blood

by halcyonskies



Series: 100Themes: Dean/Cas [43]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fallen Angel Castiel, Human Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5010178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyonskies/pseuds/halcyonskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has no earthly idea of where to go from here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cold blood

**Author's Note:**

> 100Themes Challenge - #99: Fate

If Castiel had still been an angel, he would have been able to tell exactly how long he sat there, cradling his hunter’s broken body in his arms. But he was human now, and time often slipped away from human awareness in times of distress. All he knew was that, when he looked up, the twilight had already faded firmly into the blue hues of evening.

Morbidly, Castiel found comfort in the fact that Dean had died with his eyes closed. The mere thought of seeing those familiar eyes clouded over in death was enough to make him want to cry out in anguish. But for all that his end had been fairly gruesome (by a hunter’s standards), Dean actually looked as if he could be simply unconscious. There was blood, certainly, the warmth of it long cooled on Castiel’s skin; but everything that had killed Dean had been within, hidden from their eyes inside a body that looked like it could open its eyes any moment.

“Cas,” Sam croaked across from him, and Castiel nearly started in surprise. When Castiel turned his gaze on his friend, the sheer amount of pain and resignation he found there made him wish he’d kept his eyes averted. The look on Sam’s face in that moment made it clear there was nothing – _not this time, never again_ – more they could do for his brother. “Let go, man. We gotta – we gotta get him in the Impala.”

Castiel shook his head, but still he removed his hands from Dean’s body, squeezing his right into a fist when he noticed how it had been pressed to Dean’s skin: two fingers outstretched, that old gesture of angelic healing. But Castiel was useless in that regard, and his paltry human touches could do nothing for the dead.

 

 


End file.
